Tiefling
by Mr Doc Holiday
Summary: This story was actually only inspired by the two catagories, but is an original work altogether


Chapter 1

This is the Kingdom of Starfall. Bordered by all of the other nations that make up the continent of Archrenal, it lies as the central province. Ruled and dominated by the humans, it stands as the strongest and most prosperous nation of all. Their ruler, King Corlineous Maren, rules with protection for the people in mind and above all else. It is in the village west of the capital, known as Lillianvale, is where our story takes place. It is about a boy. A boy whose destiny shall determine the fate of the world as we know it.

…

"Boy," booms the great voice from downstairs. "Time to get up!"

"Coming!" responded the boy, face down on his bed and half asleep.

He rolled over until he was facing the ceiling and then proceeded to sit himself up. He then swung his legs over the side of the bed. When he felt the wooden floor beneath the bottoms of his feet, he pressed his weight down and stood himself up. He then walked across the room to the wash basin, picking up the water next to the door along the way. He poured the steaming water into the basin and then proceeded to wash himself. When he finished, he grabbed a nearby towel and dried himself off. After doing so, he looked up and inspected himself in the mirror.

He was a fairly handsome young man of almost sixteen. He had deep, dark hair that as brown as freshly tanned leather, with two small forward-curved horns exposed, despite his attempts to hide them. His eyes were a deep, thoughtful blue, and his teeth were straight with the exception of two small "fangs." He was tall for his age, standing strong at six foot and three inches high.

His name is Krarz Garethane, and he is a Tiefling.

Frankly speaking, he is half man and half demon-spawn.

Now, the Tieflings of this world do not match those of the olden tales and legends. In reality, they look almost completely human, except for a few, varying features. Still, like in the tales and legends, they are still just as rare a breed in this world. They are also hated just as much.

Krarz backed away from the mirror and started to get dressed. He threw on a red woolen shirt and a pair of dark leather pants. He then sat back on his bed to put on a pair of rough leather boots. He looked once at mirror. Satisfied, he left the room and walked down the stairs. When he reached the base of the stairs, he turned left into the kitchen.

"There you are!" said the man sitting there who was waiting for him.

It was Krarz's uncle, Rodrick Garethane. He was strongly built, with semi-chisled features and deep, black hair and beard that was starting to gray. He was the peasant who became a Lord for saving the King from a band of assassins. He was the knight who led the Vanguard against the Great Orc Chieftain Krodnaak, and pushed his forces back into the Orcish Plains. He was the man who began the order of knights currently known as the Golden Hand. He was the man who has now resigned from his position and became the resident blacksmith in the small village known as Lillianvale.

This was the man who raised Krarz since he was just a babe. He had everything, but he chose to give it all away when he heard his brother died, and that his boy was orphaned. He wanted Krarz to grow up in an environment that believed in hard work to get by. Must have been the peasant blood flowing within him.

"Good morning uncle." Krarz greeted him, smiling.

"Same to you, my boy," he replied with a wink while sipping on a mug of ale. "Now, come and sit. The sooner you eat, the sooner we can get to work."

…

The forge burned bright and hot as Krarz pulled the rope that compressed its bellows. Using a gloved hand, he grasped a piece of cold, beaten iron and placed it within the coals. After letting it sit for a while, all the while pulling the rope now and then, he grasped it and turned it over. When it was hot and glowing, he pulled the piece out of the forge and brought it over to the anvil. He then picked up a hammer and proceeded to beat the metal. When the metal grew cold, he brought it back to forge to begin the process over again.

Lillianvale produces the best steel in the whole of the Kingdom of Starfall, and the secret is within the forge. The forge has three bellows that blow into the forge. Within these bellows are traces of a race powder known as Dragon Tongue. This powder mixes with the coals, making them burn hotter and makes any metal that is placed within stronger and, if in the right hands, deadlier. Krarz is one of few who have the privilege of using this forge.

Krarz pulled the metal out of the forge and brought it back to the anvil for the last time. After he hammered the piece and it cooled down, he brought it over to the work bench. He had been working on this little project for three days now, and it was almost finished. All he had to do now is to bind a handle onto the piece and it would be done.

When the bindings were finished, Krarz held up the finished piece to the light. It was a simple, smooth steel sword with a simple hilt and handle. Simple, yet beautiful to his eyes. It wasn't the first blade he had made, but it was the first one he could call his own.

When he finished inspecting his work of art, he brought it over to the grind stone. He sat down, placed one edge of the blade to the stone, and then proceeded to press down on the pedal that spun the stone. Sparks flew as the two materials grinded together, making a quite beautiful display in the air. After one side was evenly and well sharpened, he flipped the blade so that the other side faced the stone and proceeded to sharpen that side.

When he finished, he got up and brought the blade back to the work bench. He sealed the metal with a solution that was made from beeswax resin and then wiped the blade clean with a small rag. He then picked up a hard leather sheath that was made earlier that week and placed the sword inside. It was a perfect fit. Krarz laid the piece back on the table and stared at in satisfaction.

"What's this?" came a voice from behind.

Krarz turned around in surprise to find Rodrick standing there watching him.

"Oh… it's just… um…"

"Hand it over."

Krarz reluctantly picked his newly finished prize up and handed it to his uncle. Rodrick then unsheathed the blade and inspected it. Krarz knew he'd blown it. The blade would be confiscated and never be seen again, and he could do nothing about it.

"How long have you been working on this?" Rodrick inquired.

"At least three days…"

"This is steel, am I right?"

"Yes, sir…"

"So, you tried building yourself a weapon, in secret, using the Dragonforge, without permission?"

"Yes, sir…"

Rodrick sheathed the blade and looked Krarz in the eyes. Suddenly, he threw his head back and loudly laughed. "My, my," he said, "you've done a wonderful job here! I'm very impressed!" He looked at Krarz with a great smile and winked.

"Here," he said, handing the sheathed back to his nephew, "why don't you go out back and practice with it?"

"Right now?"

"Well, of course! Come on. Let me show you a few things about wielding one of these."


End file.
